Semua Bab Forsaken Luna's Second Chance: Bab 41 - Bab 46

BEATRICEI nod and smile, even though it takes everything in me to keep that smile in place.Disappointment rolls through me like a slow wave, bitter and familiar. I had hoped—stupidly, maybe—that today would be different. That I’d walk away with something solid. But I get it. I really do. I don’t have experience. I don’t have credentials. All I have is my word and the quiet, desperate fire in my chest that refuses to go out.“I understand,” I say, voice soft but steady.I start to stand, already forming the words in my head. Thank you for your time. I appreciate the opportunity. Maybe someday, if things change—But then, just as I turn to leave, Gamma Aria speaks again.“Would you be willing to train under me?”I freeze.I glance back slowly, unsure if I heard her right. “Train under you?”Aria nods, folding her hands neatly on the desk. “I think you have strong potential to learn. You’re intelligent, you’re steady, and you clearly care about the pups. You're a perfect choice. I’d be

BEATRICEI hesitate for a long time.The house is quiet now, the only sound the soft rhythm of Bailey’s breathing from the next room. She finally drifted off after insisting on talking about every single dish I should bring to the picnic. Her list included fried dumplings, sweet rolls, and something she called “victory noodles,” which I’m still not sure how to interpret.But I’m not thinking about recipes right now. I’m standing near the window, fingers hovering over the edge of the sill, heart pounding. The moon’s low tonight, a sliver behind clouds.I close my eyes.Maxwell… can you hear me?It’s the first time I’ve ever tried to mind-link him. I wasn’t even sure it would work—not since I joined the pack, not since the ceremony.I hold my breath, already bracing for silence.Then his voice comes through.“Beatrice?”I flinch.His tone is even. Calm. But it hits me like a jolt anyway—deep and low, like it’s coming from inside my chest instead of my head.My heart skips.“Sorry to both

BEATRICE I try not to fidget with the edge of the picnic blanket, but I can’t help it. My fingers keep twisting the fabric, over and over. Around us, the school’s field is filled with chattering families and colorful baskets. Kids laugh and chase each other while parents sip drinks and exchange knowing glances.They gather in groups, laughing as they trade bites of each other’s desserts. Bailey and I are the only ones sitting alone. Around us, there’s nothing but empty space, as if we carry some kind of plague no one dares to catch.We're the only werewolves. I knew this would happen. I told myself not to care. But it’s different being here—feeling the quiet separation. The way no one quite looks at us directly. The way their smiles drop half a second too soon. I don’t blame them. The tension between our kind runs deep, and we’re reminders of something most of them would rather forget. Still, it stings. Everywhere I look, I see both parents—dads passing napkins, moms pouring ju